


Golden Circles

by UnsettledOwl



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Busking, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-09 03:44:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13473003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnsettledOwl/pseuds/UnsettledOwl
Summary: Prowl stops on his patrol to view a busking troupe and gets a little too distracted with one of the performers.





	1. Chapter 1

It was the sparkling bands of gold that made him stop. It somehow maintained its position at the top of an outstretched servo. Any bot could dance, but the bright pink bot in question was standing amazingly still. One leg up and placed at a perfect ninety-degree angle, her ped pointed down at a forty-five-degree angle back into a perfect “4” shape. The fact that Prowl could level on her leg was impressive enough. But those gold bangles that sparkled on her poised wrist didn’t turn with the pull of gravity. It seemed to hover around her wrist perfectly in the sunlight. Tied around it was the edge of a fabric that draped to her shoulder.

 

Prowl didn’t realize his pause triggered some kind of event and the bangles around her pedes jingled as she turned her visor to him and spun, doing a little bow. He nodded back and a low rhythm began on one of the stringed instruments. She began sharp minute movements in time until melody swelled. The bot that once turned angles like facets glittering became water. Her movements were fluid and accented by the swirling fabric that covered her.

 

He wasn’t too sure how well of an observer he was, frowning and with his arms folded, he looked every part the stern guard ready to break up the band. But he was still trying to figure out those golden rings that no matter how she moved, hovered gracefully around her wrist.

 

It couldn’t be magnets. They would stick to metal like hers. Perhaps it was by some special ability she could do it but it didn’t make sense and he wanted to make sense of it.

 

He didn’t notice the crowd until the sudden gasp as she fell back into nothing. He stepped forward as if to catch her. It was already too late.

 

While they were distracted, another mech stepped in and caught her outstretched digits in hers and stepped forward, bracing her dip with an outstretched pede.

 

This new mech sent all ponderings of the strange golden hoop scurrying away into the shadows of the mechs around him.

 

He was visored as well and had a soft smile on his face as he placed a solid servo on her back. His partner looked joyful as black servos pulled her upright into his arms. She laughed, a clear and solid sound, as she spun guided by white arms. It was to put her on display, but Prowl couldn’t help but look at the mech that gently cradled her as she dipped again. The tempo changed and the crowd that’d gathered began to clap along. The dance had a purpose, to showcase the pink bot and make those watching enviously of the black and white bot that lifted her and slid her down his front. But Prowl couldn’t help but envy the svelte frame. How safe she must feel flinging herself back and knowing the other would pull her to him. Locking visors and sharing a secret smile with him.

 

They stopped, and Prowl realized he’d been looking at the black and white bot so much he hadn’t noticed much of anything. He also didn’t realize instead of stroking his chin thoughtfully, a digit had trailed to his lips. As if he wanted something planted there. The clap of the crowd jerked him from his awe and he frowned. The black and white bot now approached the crowd and an assortment of bots were giving him meager offering of chips.

 

Prowl grew nervous as he approached but summoned a few high-level chips worthy of such a performance. The bot smiled at him and held out a servo. Prowl found those black digits clasping his servos gently, yet strong. They were warm.

 

“Th’ name’s Jazz,” he spoke lowly, “Thanks for the audience, officer.”

 

The timber in his voice was unexpectedly pleasant and he got lost in that visor for a click too long before averting his optics.

 

“It was not by my servo you received such praise.”

 

Jazz smiled softly at him, bringing his servo to his faceplate and feeling him jerk, “See you around, Prowl.”

 

He was so shocked as the beautiful musician slipped away, he forgot to hand over the chips. But the black and white mech was gone and his internal computer warned him of things to be done.

 

Prowl hoped he would see the performers again and lied to himself it was only from curiosity and due diligence.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I only uploaded half the chapter last time and no one told me. Ha ha

A seeker drew a white trail on the moon as Prowl sat, watching the passage of night. He was technically off duty, but he knew someone would come looking for him soon, as was customary this time of night and with these many travelers in town.

 

For now, he could sit in this moment and enjoy the soft breeze and warm night, his doorwings adjusting slightly with each swing of his pede. It wasn’t like him to be this distracted. Normally he tried to at least get a few moments of sleep.

The captain of the guard was on his way, Prowl waited patiently as he trundled up the dune to Prowl.

“Good evening, constable,” he said once certain the officer would hear him, “Blurr’s again.”

“Yessir.”

“You could have commed me,” Prowl reminded.

“Yessir.”

Prowl ex-vented and wiped away some unseen mote from his servos, “The other officers are at the location?”

“Yessir.”

The town had a curfew of two and it was half-past four when Prowl transformed in front of the door. Most of these officers knew the drill, they would escort Blurr’s patrons home once Prowl entered the bar.

It was loud, raucous even for Blurr’s and filled with more drunken cheering than jeering. Usually, the place had broken into fights by this time, with Blurr taking bets on the winners.

Prowl surveyed the situation, after a brief check he saw the irregularity; the pink bot from earlier that day. She stood on the table singing loudly words Prowl couldn’t quite hear from the outside. He spoke out a few orders before stepping into the crowd.

Like usual, if he kept his doorwings down and walked calmly into the bar his presence went mostly unknown. Indoors he could hear the song it seemed to echo around in a murmur of drunks surrounding them.

 

                                _So uncube the energon cause darlin’ all these nights are long_

_And all we got to carry along is drink and song_

_Drink and song_

 

With that, the whole bar kicked up a horrendous shout of “hey,” making Prowl jump slightly. The crowd grew a little quieter into mostly humming as the pink mech on the table leaned in, her crystal-clear voice ringing out.

 

                                _I dance in the streets and oh they pay me money_

_But many think they can sweeten me with honey_

_A mech walked by and he shouted “What a looker”_

_Seems he tho’ he’d get me with a hooker._

 

The whole bar lifted into shouts of laughter before singing along with the chorus. Prowl easily stepped through the crowd, most shouting and laughing. He ignored the processing thought that he couldn’t see the pink bot’s dance partner and instead waited until he stood next to the dancer to turn on his lights.

All he ever needed was lights to have every optic on him and the room grow silent. Someone cleared static from their vocalizer as he lifted a servo to the pink bot on the table, to offer her assistance to get down. She froze, staring at him.

“Good evening, officer.”

Blurr, per usual, was first to speak.

“Good evening, Blurr.” Prowl vocalized calmly, “I’m not certain if everyone could hear but I’m certain you called the last call over an hour ago.”

“Right, Prowl.”

Prowl almost wanted to roll his optics but stopped any harsh retort with the pink bot put her servo in his. She looked absolutely terrified to be there.

“Alright, the men outside are here to ensure you clear your tabs with Blurr and then have a safe trip home. If you can abide by those rules, no one will be taken into Enforcer custody. Does everyone understand?”

The murmur of agreement passed through the crowd and with the shuffle of action as cover, Prowl turned to the bot on the table next to him.

“After everyone leaves we’ll get you off this table and escorted to quarters, understand?”

She nodded quickly, plating tightening with obvious nervousness. Prowl didn’t mean to upset her but he didn’t want her getting lost in the crowd and potentially dented, or much worse.

Prowl waited patiently for everyone to leave before pulling a chair over for her to step down into.

“Evenin’, Prowl.”

His doorwing sensors didn’t even feel him. Prowl’s battle computer onlined and the black and white mech stepped back, holding up his servos.

“Whoa there cuz didn’t mean to scare you,” there was a gentle laugh as Prowl relaxed. He’d even thrown out a servo protectively over the bot behind him. “Appreciate you looking after my Cara here.”

Prowl narrowed his optics, “Well, yes given the unsavory nature of the crowd it’s best not to tempt any weak sparks. I was going to bring her home myself.”

The mech, even with a visor, manage to project confusion by shrugging his shoulders and tilting his helm, “Let’s bring her home together, alright? The name’s Jazz.”

“Prowl,” the Enforcer took the proffered servo, “How did you know my name?’

Jazz shrugged and spread his servos, “Ya kno’ I ask around before I come into a place, make sure it’s the kinda place seems wants our business, you jive?”

Prowl didn’t know what the statement meant, but he could surmise the meaning, “That’s very astute for a mere traveling band.”

Jazz laughed and helped Cara down, before turning back to Prowl, “If you’d like you can come on.”

Prowl fell back into mission parameters, escort the young performer to her resting place. Then he’d have to go home to recharge himself.

 

“Please, lead the way.”

Jazz grinned and Cara made a noise before walking out the front door. Prowl hurried to catch up, his primary concern being the safety of the pink bot.

Jazz followed easily beside him, “Don’t worry about Cara she’s alright by herself but I appreciate ya’ lookin’ out fa’ ‘er.”

“Why doesn’t she speak?”

Jazz laughed, it was a low rumble in his chest that had Prowl thinking of other things.

“Ya’ noticed that huh?” He scratched a horn before continuing, “She don’t like to do it, na’ singing and laughing and making noises she can do but she ain’t fond of speech.”

Prowl nodded, watching Cara sway a little as she walked.

“Ain’t ya’ gunna ask why?”

“It’s not my business to know,” Prowl pointed out, “If she were a criminal or witness to a crime, it would be. However, she has done nothing wrong.”

“Ya’ ain’t going to point out th’ other thing are ya?”

Prowl gave him a sharp look, “It is also not my business.”

Jazz laughed and bounced his shoulder plating against him, “Ya’ an alright mech, ya’ know that?”

“I’m not sure many would agree,” Prowl suffered a wry smile.

“They can suck my exhaust.”

Prowl drifted from the conversation with that and his computer reminded him of the task he should complete, “I have something for you.”

Jazz kicked up some sand and his bright visor focused on Prowl’s outstretched servo.

“For you.”

Jazz received the chips and his light smile straightened for a flash before he grinned again, “Imagine that, I thought you were interested in Cara.”

Prowl frowned, “I am only interested in seeing her home safe. I appreciated your dance earlier and wanted to show gratitude worthy of the performance.”

Cara stopped in the road, turning to face Jazz, who nodded at her.

“Ah’ll be in Cara, you go along in and get some rest.”

Cara glared at Prowl but obeyed.

“Where are you going?”

“Why sa’,” Jazz’s visor brightened in the night, “I’m escortin’ ya’ home.”

Prowl refrained from rolling his optics, “I sleep in the barracks. I require no escort.”

“An enforcer like yourself, you never think anyone follows you home to off ya?”

“No one would be foolish,” Prowl scoffed.

Jazz shrugged, “Well, I wanna take ya’ home anyway.”

Prowl vented out low, but knew he could do little to distract the musician, “Alright, then I have a few questions.”

“Ah don’t know about any nefarious dealin’s if you thi—”

“Not about that,” Prowl gave a short forced laugh, “About those golden circles that Cara wore today.”

“Ya want some for yourself?”

An image of him, draped in silks with golden bands around his joints, clinging to Jazz made him pause.

“No, I just want to understand how they work.”

“Polar fields, they got a little battery inside ‘em.”

The answer was so simple it made Prowl frown. Of course, a smart bracelet would know to fluctuate the field and it didn’t take up that much space.

“I though’cha wanted to know how to ’ave fun.”

Prowl forced his doorwings still, “I know how to have fun.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

Prowl heard it a million times before, “Blurr’s nights are not as dazzling as tonight’s performance. Usually, his crowd is more violent and unwilling to pay their tabs. You seem to have put the town in good favor.”

“Ah’m glad you think so.”

It was something in his vocalization, a different sort of happiness that made Prowl turn to Jazz and finding himself with two servos on his waist.

“How do you do that?” Prowl demanded, once again annoyed his sensor net failed to warn him.

Jazz just shrugged, “I don’t think about it, C'mon, dance with me.”

Prowl opened his mouth to claim himself incapable but Jazz managed to lift him and he shut up very quickly.

He was clumsy but the black and white managed to avoid his missteps and actually made his processor _calm_ for once. He was so concentrated on being graceful that he laughed when Jazz actually managed to spin him out.

“Ah knew you could laugh,” he crowed happily.

Jazz dipped him low and chuckled in his chest before bringing him back up to push their faceplates together in a kiss, his palm firm between Prowls doorwings.

Prowl’s spark almost gave out with the intimacy of it. The fact that a degree of his fantasy was coming to life almost short-circuited his processor. But his battle processes onlined and he pushed the black and white away, flustered.

“I thought…cuz of the chips,” Jazz smiled, almost more cheerful than he was before, “You really did mean ta’ give those to me today.”

Prowl tried and failed to not bluster out a response, “H-ho--, why did you do this?”

“I thought you had an interest in Cara but ya’ actually took a liking to me didn’t you, what drew ya’ in? Was it my horns?”

Prowl stopped himself from retorting with _it was your servos actually_ and instead, he straightened, returning with what little dignity we have, “I assure you a member of the Enforcers would never solicit pro--…mechs attempting to sell their services. Especially not on duty.”

“Huh’n what a shame,” Jazz grinned, “I suppose I should pay you then.”

Prowl sparked to reason that out, but Jazz took the opportunity to step away.

“G-night, Prowler.”

He didn’t bother to correct him. Every circuit on his frame was trying to figure out this stranger. But as the chill of the night settled around him, his processor brought up the warmth of the frame against him and his touch starved sensors burned.

 


	3. Chapter 3

According to all of the paperwork that Prowl filed, he was liable on account of the fact he was inebriated. However, it made it quite clear that even without the high grade he would have acted. Another long drawn out piece of paperwork proved that.

Prowl groaned. His helm ache hadn’t stopped thrumming in his lines. But there wasn’t time to refuel with the mistakes he made yesterday.

His supervisor gave him a day off, but the paperwork would have to be done.

There was a sharp noise outside and then a sudden bout of shouting that had him growling promises to harm whoever was involved.

However, when he walked downstairs and flung open the doors he was surprised to see Jazz and his merry band making all kinds of noise minus Cara.

“What are you doing here?”

“We heard ya’ suspended on account of us, figured ya’d want company.”

Prowl stiffened a little, how exactly did Jazz have such a good information network?

“Indeed, however, I am attempting to remedy the mistakes from last night, your noise is not helping.”

Jazz grinned and exchanged glances with his backup drummer, who stopped the commotion.

“Ifn’a come with us I have a cure for that.”

Jazz’s cure turned out to be a rather strong bit of highgrade he affectionately called Spit. Prowl took a rather large gulp of it before realizing it was not energon.

When he coughed at the burn, Jazz thumped him heavily on the back. He wanted to protest but the dancer seemed especially careful to avoid his sensors.

He was jovial and they were in a protected area. Cara was still nowhere to be seen, but Jazz and the others were the only ones nearby. Technically, they were drinking outside of the limits of the law, but Prowl had questions.

“Where’s Cara?”

“Ya’ noticed. She skipped town with our money.”

“Then we should find her,” Prowl protested, anything to get away from this position he put himself in.

Jazz chuckled, “Nah, we gave th’ money ta’ her. She’s finally got enough.”

“Enough for what?”

Jazz leaned back, draining his cube, “Well, ya’ see Prowler. Us visored types are only seen as performers. Anytime we scuttle out of our place of entertainment…well, ‘bots ain’t ahs inclined to throw ya’ money. Cara can finally afford tah a place that makes her betta”

“What about you? You have nothing now.”

“Ye’, ‘t ain’t nothin’ new.” Jazz shrugged.

It was Prowl’s turn to down his beverage. It was too relevant to what he was recently suspended for.

“Ah heard about that.”

He jerked up to see the visored ‘bot too close, far too close.

“Ya’ got mad at that ‘bot for sayin’ we didn’t belong. Ya’ arrested ‘im.”

Prowl huffed, “It was not a viable arrest. I was inebriated and rebuked.”

Jazz leaned in and for the first time touched his doorwings, a gentle rub in circles along the edge.

“Ah sah that,” Jazz told him lowly, “Ah nahmally don’t reward mech ahn account of their chivalry but ta’ be honest Ah’ve had an interest in yah.”

Prowl wondered if Jazz could feel the way his spark swelled in his chest and he leaned to the bot, “I’ve had an interest in you.”

“What dah ya’ say we head on back ta’ yer place?” Jazz told him low, “Ya _real_ place.”

Prowl was dizzier from the implications than the highgrade engex he finished. His computer warned him, this mech was a stranger, could potential rob him blind and disappear. But part of him knew it would all be worth it.

“Okay.”


End file.
